October 14, 1993 - 1. Chapter 1

October 14, 1993:

The bar was packed for a Thursday night. Ever since Bishop started his, ‘Thirsty Thursdays,’ the customers jammed into the tiny place, taking advantage of dollar drafts. Music blared from speakers mounted to the ceiling while dozens of scantily dressed university girls danced in the center of techno-colored strobe lights that flashed across the polished wooden floor. For a college bar, Bishop really knew how to bring the students and the alcohol together, and he made a lot of money doing it.

I made my way through the crowd and pushed to the edge of the bar and watched Lonnie fill a pitcher of beer from the tap at the far end of the counter. Her long blond ponytail cascaded down the center of her back. I couldn’t help but smile at her, busy at work.

“Yo,” I shouted above the growing noise. “Can I get a whiskey sour?”

The look of irritation that passed over my sister’s face when she spun on her heels was priceless. She glared at me before growling, “Matthew, what the hell are you doing here?”

Shrugging my shoulders didn’t really give her an answer and I could tell that it just pissed her off more.

“Damn it Matt, you know that Bishop is going to shit if he sees you in here again. You’re not even twenty yet.”

I glanced around at the packed crowd. Bishop was nowhere to be seen, so I figured that it was worth the gamble. “Awww, come on, Lonnie, don’t give me such a hard time. I’ll be twenty-one soon--”

“You have more than a year, Matthew. That’s not fucking soon.” She rolled her eyes while pouring another customer’s drink.

“Well, technically Sis, it’s only three hundred ninety-two days until I’m technically old enough, but I’m way more mature than guys twice my age. Come on, I’ve lived on my own for the last three years, I’m paying my own way through school, and I have a full time job, so shouldn’t I be old enough to have one drink? I can die for my country, but god forbid I have one fucking beer.”

“Knock it off!” She yelled drawing the attention of several girls gathered around the taps. They giggled and danced while waiting for another refill.

“Fine then, I’ll just go and hit on the new bouncer. He’s kind of cute,” I said, waggling my eyebrows, getting a few curious glances from the crowd. One of the girls nodded her head and agreed that the tall blond guy at the door was smokin’ hot.

“Stay away from Lucas,” Lonnie growled. “The last thing Luc needs is to get fired over your sorry ass.”

I recognized the look of jealously that flashed through Lonnie’s familiar blue eyes, identical to mine. After shooting daggers at me for a few seconds more, she realized that I wasn’t going away, and gave in and filled a glass with Bishop’s cheapest house draft. It was more foam than fluid, but hey, it was free beer, so I wasn’t complaining.

“Why aren’t you out with your friends?” Lonny asked, wiping down a glass.

“Chris has a date with that new chick down at the Cone Zone. Later, the gang’s all getting together at some party, so I had a few hours to kill before meeting them.”

Christopher Sturgis wasn’t just my best friend, he was usually my partner in crime. Normally, where ever one of us was, the other wasn’t far behind. He was smart, handsome, funny, and very very sexy. He would have been the perfect boyfriend if it wasn’t for a pesky little problem of him being hopelessly straight. It was a handicap I’d offered to help him overcome on more than one occasion. Chris thought I was joking, but seriously, I would screw him in a heartbeat.

While Lonnie tended to the growing crowd, I drank my watered down beer. I’d already pissed her off, so it might be the only one she served me tonight. At least there should be a ton of alcohol at the party later. That thought made me smile. The bar was filling by the minute. I don’t know what the maximum capacity was, but Bishop was way over the limit tonight. The roar of the crowd was deafening. People pushed and shoved trying to get closer to the bar as the music pounded your body, trying to collapse your ribcage or your eardrums, whichever burst first. It didn’t care which one.

I wanted to tell Lonnie that I would be back when I got up to go to the bathroom, but she was busy filling orders. When the heavy wooden door swung closed behind me, it suddenly blocked out the noise. It was refreshing. There was only one other guy at the wall of urinals. Making sure not to stand directly beside the other guy, I walked to the one in the center and started to relieve myself.

He finished pissing, but instead of putting his dick away, he stroked it a few times before tucking it back in his pants. I tried not to look, but my curiosity got the better of me. The guy was handsome. I noticed when I had first walked in that he was slightly taller than me, and he outweighed me by more than a few pounds, but this guy wasn’t out of shape by a long shot. His masculine physique, a few days growth of facial hair, and thick fur peeking out from his unbuttoned shirt, all screamed straight guy, yet here he stood, showing another guy his cock in the bathroom.

Bishop’s wasn’t a pickup bar. It wasn’t the kind of place overflowing with homosexual vibes. My face flushed red as I quickly finished my business and left. Pushing my way back to the bar, I noticed that my original seat had been taken by a huddle of frat boys. The crowd had tripled in the few minutes I was gone and there wasn’t a chance of making it back to the front of the bar.

“Is that your girlfriend?” The sexy voice purred beside my ear at the same time a hand squeezed my ass.

I shook my head and laughed. “No, that’s my sister.”

Turning to face the guy, I saw that he had a fresh drink in his hand. The tumbler was filled with opaque liquid garnished with a lime. This time when he spoke I smelled gin on his breath.

“I’m Stewart,” he said and took another drink.

My eyes traveled from his full, red lips moist with alcohol, down to the dark hair speckling his neck before catching a glimpse of a silver necklace nestled in a thatch of black chest hair. A pair of red dice hung from the thick chain.

I watched the charm rise and fall with his next breath, mesmerized with the movement. “I’m Matt,” I said, demanding that my fingers stay placed in my pockets and not rake through the dark chest hair, deliciously close to eye level.

“Well, Matt, is it always this crowded?” he asked me.

I’d only been in Bishop’s a couple of times, but Lonnie was always complaining about her crazy-ass shifts at the bar. Nodding my head, I told him, “Yeah, it’s one of the benefits of living in a college town: lots of warm bodies and alcohol to go around.”

The guy chuckled. It was a deep throaty laugh and I might have missed it if I wasn’t pressed so close to him in the swelling mob of people. Instead of shouting over the noise, he leaned in and spoke against my ear. “Crowds aren’t really my thing, Matt. I’m more of a gambler by nature. I bet that when I leave, you can’t wait more than two minutes before you’re out that door looking for me.”

“An entire two minutes?” I laughed. “Dude, I’m not desperate.”

Stewart pressed closer. I could feel the heat of his body where his thighs touched mine. “No, but you are curious.” He took one last gulp and finished his drink before moving toward the exit. “See you in a hundred and twenty seconds.”

“What if I don’t show?” Challenging him brought a sexy smirk to his face.

With a shrug of his wide shoulders, he said, “That’s the risk of gambling - you win some and you lose some.”

The man gave me a wink and then disappeared into the crowd.

I nervously bounced on my feet to the pulsing sound of the music. Two minutes. This guy was going to sit outside the bar to see if I came running after him like a dog in heat? What if I waited three minutes or four minutes instead, just to prove my point, would his offer still stand? He would lose the bet, but what was the wager exactly? My heart raced, I don’t know how long I debated, but the rush of night air hit me like an icy blast when I burst through the doors and stumbled outside.

The parking lot was full of random vehicles. Lots of old Jeeps, a few beat-up muddy pick-up trucks, and even the occasional hand-me-down sedans, but I knew that Stewart wouldn’t drive something as unrefined as a college clunker. My eyes scanned the lot until I spotted it. I smiled, it was American muscle. Stewart was leaning against a jet black 1969 Chevy Camaro. His arms were crossed over his chest as his weight was resting on the hood of his car.

“One minute and thirty seven seconds!” Steward’s voice was thick and husky.

Unable to keep myself from grinning from ear to ear, I bit on my bottom lip to resemble some form of control. I slowly wove my way through the sea of cars, making my way towards the back of the lot. “How long would you have waited?”

“Twenty three more seconds.” His dark eyes glanced over my body, sending chills racing down my spine.

Steward uncrossed his arms and ankles. Even in the dim light I could make out the bulge in the front of his jeans as he pushed himself off the car. The parking lot was empty except for cars. The guy could have pinned me to the metal hood of the car and I wouldn’t have objected; instead, his hand found the small of my back and directed me towards the passenger door.

The black leather seat creaked under my weight when I climbed inside. The interior dome light didn’t turn on when the doors opened, leaving the inside cast in shadows, yet I could still make out the fuzzy red dice hanging from the rearview mirror. I thought Stewart was inviting me to his car for a quick fuck in the dark, but when he turned the key and the loud motor roared to life, goose bumps peppered my skin. There was no mistaking we were going somewhere far more private.

It was a cool evening for early autumn. The forecast had called for rain showers. The sky was overcast, but it didn’t look like it was going to storm anytime soon. The night sky got darker, the farther we drove away from the lights of town.

“The park past Resslin should be vacant at this time of night,” I suggested.

Stewart slowly shook his head while keeping his eyes on the road. When he turned and headed south instead of north, I settled back in the seat to enjoy the ride. The radio was turned down low. A classic rock song played in the background so I closed my eyes and hummed along to the tune.

I could feel the throttle of the engine vibrating the frame of the car. It pulsed in my veins, bringing a wave of desire flooding to my groin. My erection grew uncomfortable in my jeans. I thought about releasing it and stroking myself in front of Stewart. Deciding that I had waited long enough to have some fun, I placed my hand on Stewart’s leg and worked my way up until I found his dick and gave it a playful squeeze.

The punch was unexpected. “What the hell?” I gasped. Stars burst behind my eyes when something hard hit me on the side of my head. I reeled back from the pain. In the darkness I couldn’t make out much, but the gun in Stewart’s hand was unmistakable.

“Whoa,” I threw my hands up and backed away from him. “Dude, I thought you wanted to mess around as much as I did. If I misread the signals, I’m sorry--”

Metal connecting with bone makes a sickening sound. The gun barrel caught my forehead, splitting a gash just above my eyebrow. Blood blurred my vision as it ran into my eyes. I winced as the stinging increased. The laugh that came from him was malevolent. I could feel him accelerating as he stomped on the gas pedal while glaring at me, as we flew down a darkened road at breakneck speeds.

When he finally glanced back to the road, I grabbed for the door handle and instantly knew it had been tampered with. It pulled freely in my hand, but wouldn’t unlatch the door. Trying for the window, I found that the handle to roll down the window was missing. I was trapped. I crouched against the door, trying to get as far out of his reach as possible.

A flash of lightning lit up the sky. We were surrounded by open fields. The country road was bumpier then the well maintained streets in town and before long Stewart was forced to slow down. Just when he did, large rain drops splattered across the windshield.

“And HE shall wash away your sins,” Stewart’s voice was icy as he spoke to the sky.

I wasn’t expecting the car to lurch to a sudden stop. Maybe that was Stewart’s plan, because he caught me by surprise when he grabbed me by a fist full of hair, and dragged me across the front seat and into the road.

Gravel bit into my knees when I landed on the road. Struggling was no use, Stewart was stronger and when I dug my palms into the rocks, trying to get some leverage, he kicked me in the side. My stomach lurched trying to expel everything inside. I dry heaved, but nothing came up. He dragged me to the front of his car and ordered me on my knees.

Headlights sliced two white beams through the night. Dust plumed in front of the light. My ribs ached. My body trembled. My mind raced. Kneeling before this perfect piece of American machinery, I waited for a crazy man to decide my fate.

“Open your mouth,” Stewart growled at me, but I shook my head. He might have me trapped, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him.

Without asking a second time, he punched me in the face, splitting my lip open. The blow cracked my front tooth, pushing it back so I could wiggle it against my tongue. I hissed as salty blood filled my mouth.

The rain started to pour. I don’t know about washing away my sins, but the cold drops washed away the blood spilling from my cuts and the tears that were streaming down my face. The pain was dull compared to my fear. I couldn’t stop my legs from shaking as I continued to kneel waiting for my fate.

“Open!” His voice trembled when he shouted.

Closing my eyes, I did as he said. Cold steel was traded for hot flesh.

He didn’t have to force me to do this. I had left the bar willingly. I would have gladly sucked him. I would have done a lot more than that if he had only asked me and not chosen to degrade me, instead.

Stewart grunted and bucked his hip. The metallic taste of my blood mixed with the bitter taste of him. I was nauseous and tried not to gag.

A car approached in the distance. I heard the crunch of the gravel under its tires and the rumble of the engine as it neared. I opened my eyes and looked up at Stewart. It was hard to see anything with the Camaro’s headlights glaring beside my face, yet I could tell his eyes were closed. He was lost in his action. I didn’t see his gun, but I knew that it was close by.

The vehicle slowed briefly. My heart lurched. What if they stopped? What if they tried to help me? What if they don’t? They could also get hurt by Stewart, but the car didn’t stop. It quickly sped past us. I can only imagine what the driver thought, seeing what appeared to be one guy blowing another guy on a deserted country road in the pouring rain.

By Stewart’s frantic pace I knew he was close. He moaned and pumped faster until his release sent him into a rage. The first crushing blow met my cheekbone. Bones break, the sound is revolting. It shouldn’t have been a shock after what he had already done, but I gasped from the pain. He knocked me to the ground and continued to beat me with his fist and gun until kicking me until I no longer moved.

I curled up, pulling my knees closer to my chest. My teeth chattered. Blood filled my nose and mouth, strangling my breath until the tremors slowly subsided.

Stewart shouted into the night. He growled and grunted like an animal while he paced around my broken body. My breathing stilled… my eyes were fixed on the night… I didn’t move.

When the headlights dimmed to darkness, I thought I had died.

Lying on the ground, my life flashed before my eyes. It wasn’t the first nineteen years, eleven months, four days and fourteen hours of my existence up to this very moment. It wasn’t when my dad had walked out on us, or when my mom decided to get married to an asshole who liked using me for a punching bag, or even when the neighborhood kids teased me for being different.

The life I saw was the one I would never have if I stayed here on this cold wet ground. It was my future. I saw a handsome man reaching out to me. He smiled at me and I knew that he was going to marry me one day. We would walk along the riverbank, hand in hand, when he asked me to love him forever. I also saw our beautiful daughter being born, her first steps, her graduation, and then her wedding day. I wanted this life. I even saw myself rocking my grandchild to sleep in my arms.

The only sound was the splattering of rain as it fell across my cold skin. It rolled across my face and seeped into my clothes.

I pushed myself onto my aching side and gingerly climbed to my feet. Each step was wobbly. The road was dark. There would be some bump and there was a very long way to go, but I had the visions of the life that waited for me. That life was still ahead of me. It was my life. All I had to do was to keep moving forward.